


May It Be

by NebulousMistress



Category: Danny Phantom, Ghostbusters (Movies)
Genre: Ficlet Collection, Multi, includes AU, includes crossovers, includes episode related, includes post-series, includes science, includes threesome, includes torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 06:36:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 18,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NebulousMistress/pseuds/NebulousMistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The phanniemay challenge. Thirty one prompts, one for each day of the month of May.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1: Bruises

Dash Baxter hoisted his favorite punching bag and slammed him against the lockers. Yesterday he'd missed football practice because this wimp Fenton bled when punched in the face. He'd gotten detention, detention of all things! Him! He didn't get detentions! Ever!

Dash pulled back his fist, ready to whale on Fenton as punishment for the detention Dash had to serve. But something clicked in the back of his mind as Fenton didn't flinch. No, he merely looked tired.

And the black eye from yesterday... It was... gone? Dash opened his mouth to accuse but stopped himself. He _saw_ the bruises yesterday. He _knew_ what he did to the wimp. He remembered the lecture he got from the school nurse, about how he'd _broken_ the wimp's nose. But it was all... gone...

Something was very wrong here. Something that demanded an appropriate response. He brought his fist in with more force than strictly necessary, relishing the wimp's cry of pain. Fenton slid down the locker, holding his bleeding nose.

“I guess I just need to punch you harder to make it stick, don't I, Fentonio?” Dash mocked.

Danny growled up at Dash before sighing, falling back into uncaring compliance. Dash laughed. Gifts from the ghost zone were rare but this! An unbreakable nerd to take all his frustrations out on, this was the best ever.


	2. Day 2: Flying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghosts aren't the only things that fly. But the corollary to flying... is _falling_.

He knew what it was like to fly.

He remembered the feel of the rings in his hands, the rosin on his palms. The braces on his fingers. The second skin of the spandex coating him from shoulders to ankles. The dust on his feet, the strain in his toes...

It didn't matter what the clock said. 0.3 seconds always felt like an eternity.

He remembered the moment of the downswing and when he would begin to fly. Letting go of the rings so they couldn't hold him back. Arching back into the swing, twisting in a somersault, dancing in the air itself with nothing holding him up but the strength of his own downswing. Nothing but grace and movement even as the world stopped. Everything stopped, himself the only living thing. The only point of action in the entire world of silence.

He remembered stretching out to meet the ground, his bare feet reaching for its embrace. They always took the brunt of the impact, slamming him down on the ground as if in punishment for his hubris.

He remembered the roar of the crowd, the approval of the judges, the burn in his legs and chest as the world started up again. As time began. As reality returned and he was once again earthbound. 

Humans don't fly.

But Lionel Lancer knew better. For 0.3 seconds he would fly. Every time.

*****

He knew what it was like to fly.

He'd lived for those 0.3 seconds when gravity would lose her hold over him and he would throw himself into the air to defy her, defy expectation, defy everything and everyone. Defy the jocks who'd beat him for his passion for cheerleading. Defy the parents who didn't believe someone of his height could ever be a gymnast. Defy the coaches who didn't believe he would ever make it this far. Defy the judges who didn't believe he could successfully complete such intricate aerial tricks.

Defy gravity. And then... when it counted the most... gravity decided she would no longer be defied.

1984\. He was a few precious points away from a coveted spot on the alternate team. All he had to do was nail the landing here and he'd be going to Los Angeles. He'd be in the Olympics. Even if he never got to compete he'd have gotten that far.

He remembered it all. Every moment was forever etched in his memory to be relived over and over in his nightmares. Always what could have been. What he could have been. What could have happened.

What almost happened.

He could still feel the muscle tear in the downswing. His hands slipped as physics tore at him, claws of reality grabbing him as he tried to fly. Grabbing him, ripping him to shreds, yanking him down...

He remembered slamming onto the mat. It didn't feel right. He... he couldn't feel his legs...

Lionel Lancer knew what it felt like to fly. He also knew what it felt like to fall.

People always said humans were never meant to fly.

Maybe... maybe they were right.

He would never fly again.


	3. Day 3: Relationships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have no OTP. Rather I have several smaller ships. Here's three of them.

Claws flurried, ripping through fragile human defenses. Red red eyes burned through the darkness, lighting nothing, everything in a demonic glow. White hair splayed down against blackness, blue skin against pale. Red blood trailed in lines as he gave himself to the sensation, the pain, the _pleasure..._

He cried out into nothingness, a black-gloved hand coming up to muffle the sound. Held down by the weight, oppressive heat inside and out as he was taken, spread apart, opened and violated in the best way. Snarling purrs in his ear brought by the hottest of breaths snorting against him like an animal's growls.

It changed in pitch, growing lower as the movements grew desperate. As growls morphed into a long possessive snarl. He bared his neck as fangs stabbed in, ripping into his shoulder to mark, to incapacitate, to hold, to rip and tear and feed...

Blue eyes opened to darkness.

Vlad Masters sat up in his empty bed, sweat sticking his silk sheets to his naked skin. He reached up to rub his aching neck, the punctures of Plasmius's fags still burning even through the veil of reality.

Vlad dropped back into bed and sighed. He stretched out in the soft silk and satin before curling up with a feather pillow.

Everyone who claimed to care was so worried about how he was always alone. But they were wrong.

He was never alone.

*****

Vlad nursed his longneck at the bar. Another date gone horribly wrong when the girl asked about his major. As if physics wasn't nerdy enough to these humanities types he had to go and admit to his work in paranormal studies. Which of course led to the expected "oh..." and the girl excusing herself to the washroom so she could sneak out the back way. Vlad finished it the traditional way, hitting the bar so he could use the payphone to drag his two housemates out here to toast another failed date.

And as usual only one showed up. Vlad leaned into the bright orange arm draped over his shoulders as Jack ordered another round for them both. Vlad caught the eye of the bartender and shook his head, gesturing at the three other rounds Jack had ordered for him but he hadn't even gotten to yet.

"C'mon, V-man, drink up," Jack slurred. "Thish is an occasion! To another con-con... another one who gots away."

Vlad sighed.

"An' where ish Maddie anyway?" Jack asked, squinting around the bar. "Wasn't she coming?"

Vlad groaned and let his head fall on the bar. "Jack..."

Jack took a deep swallow of his beer and then fixed Vlad with a wide-eyed puppy look.

Vlad glared. "Jack, she's not... I mean... She's... Oh how do I say this..." He took a deep draught of beer to steady his nerves. "Jack, she's not coming because she thinks we're gay for each other and wants us to get on with it."

Jack turned to stare at the mirror behind the bar. Vlad went back to drinking, finally finishing a beer and starting on the backlog of rounds. So... Maddie thought they were... But they weren't... Were they? Jack watched Vlad in the mirror. The skinny man had a big streak of gray in his hair; he'd forgotten to dye it before this date. He didn't fit all that well in his nice clothes; they were too big around the shoulders and it made him look small. He looked so lonely...

"I suppose we could try it," Jack suggested.

Vlad's eyes drifted to the mirror, catching the reflection of Jack's. He sighed and held out his beer bottle. Jack clinked his against Vlad's and they both drank. Jack tried not to smile as he felt Vlad lean closer against him.

They could give it a shot.

*****

The whoosh of the thermos was deafening in his ears as he was sucked inside. He fell into it, into that cramped hole where he'd spend who knows how long, braced himself for impact with the hard unyielding bottom...

"OOF!"

Weird. This wasn't hard or unyielding at all. "I, the Box Ghost, am not alone in this horrible cylindrical container?" he asked.

"No, dearie, you're not."

The Box Ghost looked up to see a ghost he'd met only in passing. Beautiful blue skin, wild white hair, a vengeful mercurial mood, and such power... "I, the Box Ghost, have been trapped here often but I have never met such a beauteous creature here. How was one so powerful as you captured?"

The Lunch Lady blushed. "My, my, you're a charmer," she said. "It was the girl. It's always the girl and her refusal to accept that meat is necessary for a proper diet! It's no wonder she's so thin and scrawny. She'll never develop properly without a proper diet. And what about you?"

The Box Ghost sighed. "Phantom relies on my greatest weakness! For I, the Box Ghost, am master of all that is corrugated and square. I cannot control a cylindrical container such as this."

There was a beep and suddenly the pressure changed. The thermos was about to be emptied into the Ghost Zone. "It's been fun," the Lunch Lady said. "But we're about to be separated."

"I, the Box Ghost! Shall find you again! If I have to be captured a hundred times I will find yoooooo-" His voice faded away as they were both flung to far edges of the Ghost Zone.

The Lunch Lady sighed. He was such a nice ghost, flattering her power, interested in her obsession. She wondered if she'd ever see him again.


	4. Day 4: Crossovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crossover with the Ghostbusters

Danny Phantom chased the annoying little green blob through the sky. This ghost was a new annoyance, something he'd never encountered before. It was small but fast, weak but annoying. And it chattered like there was no tomorrow yet there wasn't a single real word among the blather. 

“Hold still you little creep!” Danny snarled. He pulled his thermos as he chased the green thing at high speed.

“Okay, now!”

Danny was stopped in midair, suddenly trapped in a force he couldn't break out of. It didn't suck like the thermos. Instead it felt like gravity itself dragged him down into a bright white light even as he fought, tried to fly away, claw, climb, anything.

And then it was over. But he'd lost his thermos. And now he was stuck in a box.

Great....

***

“Yes!” Two middle-aged men with proton packs high-fived each other. Suddenly it didn't matter that Winston and Peter were banished outside because Peter has insulted the mayor one too many times (and Winston had volunteered to keep him out of trouble). The hunting was nice out here.

The doors to the mayor's mansion opened and three men stepped outside. “Hey! Lightning rod! I caught one of your locals!” Peter shouted.

Vlad sighed at the rather annoying name. “Blue skin, coveralls, loves boxes?” he guessed.

Ray jumped as Slimer shot up to him and tried to hide under the man's shirt, babbling the whole time.

“Black and white,” Winston described. “Chased Slimer halfway around town. Carried this.” He held up a familiar thermos.

Vlad stared, incredulous. And then he began to laugh. Of all the ghosts the Ghostbusters would catch in his town... “Let him out,” he sighed, still laughing. “Let him out and I'll introduce you.”

First the Ghostbusters were in town to discuss staging a convention and demonstration here in Amity Park. Then Danny Phantom just had to get involved. This was going to be a long night.


	5. Day 5: Vlad

Vlad trudged through his lab up to his mansion. The ghost portal doors slid behind him with a faint whoosh that sounded far too final. He sighed and looked at one black glove. Empty handed again. The tips of the black vinyl were burned away, revealing blue fingertips and black claws with their points filed away. His suit was stained with acid, blood, ectoplasm, and various substances he didn't particularly want to identify. A great slash across his chest laid bare his blue skin through the white fabric. He limped on a twisted ankle and the edges of his cloak were ragged. He could still smell it burning.

Oh right. That's because it was. He sighed again and slowly stamped out the fire, almost too weary to care. Another artifact that he so desperately wanted, another artifact guarded by something more than willing to eat him. Another fight out of a creature's stomach. It almost wasn't worth it anymore.

Vlad took human form. His suit was in much the same condition as the rest of him. His ponytail was torn out of its bindings, hair everywhere. Dark circles sat under his eyes. Somehow he was missing a shoe. Vlad pulled off his clothes one piece at a time, leaving a trail from his lab to his bedroom. He'd have to warn the maid that she shouldn't touch any of it without gloves. Or maybe tongs and a hazmat suit.

As he stepped into the shower he went over everything else he was supposed to do tonight. Ugh... He needed to draft another speech for his shareholders, review the data from Valerie's suit, practice the excuses he needed to give to the antitrust judge, and figure out how he was going to make up for today's failure. He just had so much to do...

Vlad slid down against the marble wall of his shower. Once, just once, he wanted a night to himself. A night when he could forgo all of the evil and the plotting and the responsibilities.

A night like tonight. No time like the present. Tonight he was going to ignore it all, responsibilities be damned.

***

Danny Phantom flew through the castle's halls. He just knew the fruitloop was up to something, he always was. It was like the guy never even took time off or something. He followed his ghost sense to the only room with a light on in it and stopped in midair.

Vlad was... sitting in a chair reading a book? A half glass of wine sat next to him, the bottle nearby. But the weirdest part...

Vlad had no pants. He wore his suit jacket, shirt, that stupid bow on his neck, even his socks and shoes. But no pants.

Vlad glanced up and closed his book, keeping place with a finger. “What?” he asked.

Danny couldn't think of anything to say.

“I'm taking a night off, Daniel,” Vlad said, opening his book again. “Feel free to see yourself out.”

Danny stared at Vlad as the man merely sat there in his chair. He took a sip of wine and turned a page, engrossed in his book. Aside from the glaring lack of pants there wasn't a single hint that this was a raving evil fruitloop. He shook his head and flew away, leaving Vlad to his book.


	6. Day 6: Redesign

Ember tossed the pages onto the coffee table. “These new songs are weird, Poet,” she said. She grabbed his glass of bourbon as it was half-hoisted to his lips and drained it for him.

Her poet glared at his empty hand and then at her. “You could get your own drink,” he suggested.

“And you can get me another,” she countered. “But really, Poet, this is weird stuff. I mean, acoustics? A cello? Where are we gonna get a cello player around these parts? Who ever heard of a cello in a rock band? I play rock and roll, Poet! Not this orchestral boring crap half the ghost zone favors. Ugh!”

“Clearly you have never heard a cello cut loose,” Lancer said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. “Look. You contracted me as your poet because, in your own words, poets in the ghost zone only write about their deaths or their obsessions. You said you wanted variety. You said you wanted a re-imagining of what you could do with your music. You said you wanted to redesign your genre.”

Her hair flamed higher in annoyance as he merely sat there and glared at her. “Fine, fine, I'll try the frickin' cello,” she snapped. Her flames died down a little, falling back to her normal fiery level. “But this is a huge favor I'm doin' you, Poet. I don't like doin' favors unless I get something in return.”

“You get the music,” Lancer said. He gulped at the look on her face. Clearly the music was not going to be enough. Not this time.

***

The music wasn't enough.

Explaining himself to the other teachers was as easy as claiming he'd lost a bet. His students were not likely to be as understanding. Still, there was nothing else he could do to put this off. And it was only for one day...

Lancer took a deep breath and walked into his classroom, pink sundress swishing around his stockinged knees. The room went dead quiet right before the whispering and the sounds of cell phone cameras began.

Today was going to be a long day.


	7. Day 7: Favorite AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not really a favorite. But one that's been on my mind for months now. I finally have an excuse to write it.

Jack came home, his arms full of takeout Chinese. It had been a long day at the lab washing glassware and feeding rats. Certainly not what he'd been expecting when he jumped right into graduate school after getting his bachelor's degree in electrical engineering. But what with the portal accident and the inquiry he'd been expelled from the program and left to fend for himself with a boat-load of student loans, a dead best friend, and another friend who was rapidly becoming something more. Speaking of, it was Thursday so he expected her to be in the undergrad lab trying to keep the remedial students from blowing themselves up. Hopefully she'd be home before midnight this time.

The key in the lock, the door opened. And Jack went dead still. There was someone sitting on his couch. No one was supposed to be here. “Who are you?” he demanded.

An icy blue eye looked up from beneath long white hair. A big black coat did nothing to hide how thin, how ragged the intruder's form really was. That eye went wide with recognition. “Jack?”

The bag of takeout dropped to the floor. He knew that voice... “No. It can't be, you're dead,” he whispered. “They told us you were dead!”

The intruder took a deep breath and stood up, turning to face Jack. “I figured they did,” he said. “But they were wrong. I escaped, Jack. And I'm not going back there.”

“Vlad...”

The intruder, his best friend, his **dead** best friend, smiled.

“Do you have any idea what we went through?!” Jack demanded. “They expelled me! And Maddie's whole first year she wasn't even allowed to apply for grants! We owe so many people so much money and I had to take two jobs to even make a dent in it! I have been working my ass off to support us both and where the hell have you been?!”

Vlad stepped back, fear plain on his face. Then his eyes flashed red for a moment and the fear faded, blending into something harder. His hands went to the buttons on his shirt and pulled them open one by one.

Jack's eyes went wide. His rant died as his friend revealed the unmistakable scars of an autopsy.

“Don't you **dare** claim to have it worse than I did,” Vlad growled, his eyes flashing red again. “This was just the start of it.”

“I'm sorry,” Jack whispered.

Vlad sighed and closed his shirt, blocking the annoyed red scars from sight. “So you and Madeline are still together?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

Vlad nodded and fell back onto the couch. Jack bent down and picked up the bag of takeout, bringing it to the coffee table. He handed Vlad a carton of something random and a plastic fork. Vlad accepted it, gazing almost wistfully at what looked like kung pow something. “I missed you both,” he whispered. “No matter how bad it got I missed you both so much. Even when I blamed you for what... happened to me. I had to see you both again.” His gaze turned to Jack as the big man sat shoveling something sweet and sour into his open mouth. “You and Madeline are all I have left, Jack. I couldn't let go of that. No matter how much I wanted to.”

Jack swallowed heavily and leaned against his bony friend. “Eat something, you look like the walking dead,” he said.

There was something about the wry look Vlad gave him that seemed odd. But Jack didn't want to think about it. All that mattered was his friend was back.

***

Maddie came home to hear the sounds of laughter and the television through her door. She didn't think they were expecting company. She sighed; she expected Jack would be cognizant enough to know that Thursdays she just wanted to take a shower and fall into bed. Now she had to deal with people over...

When she opened the door her eyes went wide. “Vlad?”

Two pairs of blue eyes turned to focus on her. Jack smiled sheepishly. “Look who I found?” he asked.

Maddie crept up to their wayward friend, unsure if he was really there. She reached out to touch his big black coat, was amazed to find him solid. The past three years came back to her in a rush and she slapped him as hard as she could. While he reeled she enveloped him in a hug. “Don't you **ever** do anything like that to us again!” she shrieked. “They told us you were dead! That we'd killed you! Do you have any idea how that feels?!”

Vlad blinked, not able to do much more than that. She was furious, she was holding onto him for dear life. He relaxed, going with it as he wrapped his arms around her and held her as she broke, as the tears fell to soak his shirt.

“There's... something I need to tell you both,” Vlad said. “That you both need to know. But no one else can know.”

She pulled away from him, holding him at arm's length. Jack came up and clamped a hand on his shoulder. “We're here for you, Vladdy, whatever you need,” he said.

Vlad took a deep breath and nodded. “Reports of my death were... not entirely inaccurate,” he admitted. He put a hand on the coffee table and concentrated, letting it fall through. He looked up at the both of them with red eyes. “I'm not the same... anymore.”

“You... really died?” Maddie asked.

“I'm not sure,” Vlad said. “I just know...” He summoned his power, let it envelop him. Black rings appeared around his waist, sucking the light from around him as he shed his human guise for something less... alive. His black coat turned white, almost too white to be a mere lab coat. His hair darkened to a pitch black that almost shone. But the worst part were the eyes, red eyes that shone from skin shaded the very blue of asphyxiation. Vlad looked down at his own black-gloved hands. “I just know I'm not human anymore.”

Red eyes turned on them, eyes that despite their color conveyed an incredible sadness. Jack reached out for Vlad, not knowing what to do. Eventually he let his hand fall and then grabbed his friend, pulling him into a crushing hug.

Vlad's red eyes went wide before they clamped shut and he held on to Jack for dear life. He felt Maddie's gentle hands on his hair, her arms entwining around them both. These were his friends. He should have known they'd accept him. He should never have doubted.

He'd be okay.

***

“I'm telling you, this is the perfect place to test our equipment!” Jack crowed.

Vlad and Maddie stood around as Jack set up the stuff. The house certainly looked haunted, empty and abandoned. A fine layer of dust coated the corners. Dry rot had taken some of the ceiling, giving them a view into the attic and the bat colony above. Vlad paced the entire house, his mind open listening for someone, anyone who might be here. He sighed as he completed a circuit.

“Jack, there's no one here,” Vlad said.

“Well of course not, that's another reason I picked the place,” Jack said.

“No, I mean, there are no ghosts here.”

“You're just saying that, Vladdy. Now help me get the wires connected.”

Vlad pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Jack! The only remotely ghost-like creature on this property is me. There's nothing else. Not even a danged cold spot.”

Maddie glared at Jack. Jack looked confused.

“I can... I don't know, I can **sense** ghosts. And this place is dead. Not like dead people dead, like Faraday cage dead. You picked a ghost-less house to test our ghost equipment on.”

Jack pouted. “But I wanted it to work...”

Maddie kept glaring. “I have an 8AM class I have to TA, you know,” she warned. “Can we please go home now so I can get some sleep?”

“Okay...” Jack pouted as he started packing up the equipment.

Vlad looked out the window. Suddenly he shuddered and his breath spilled forth hot, fogging the glass. “Wait,” he said. “Don't take it down yet.”

“But you said--”

Vlad hissed for silence and let himself transform. He faded from visibility and phased through the window.

Jack looked from where his friend had stood down to the machinery going wild at the aftermath. It didn't matter how many times he saw that it was still a little strange.

Outside, Vlad flew toward that sense, seeking out its cause. He found it lurking in a house packed up to move. Boxes were stacked through the rooms. The ghost was shifting boxes around, unpacking and repacking them. Vlad floated in the corner, waiting for it to notice him. It finished unpacking a box and lifted it into the air. Vlad's pointed ears twitched before he found that box trying to pack him away.

“I am the box ghoooost!”

Vlad extracted himself from the box and grabbed the blue-skinned ghost before him. “You're coming with me,” he snapped.

“Never! The box ghost cannot be contained!”

Vlad sighed and dragged the ghost through the wall and across the street to the so-called 'haunted' house on the block. Floating boxes packed with things followed as the box ghost called upon its 'minions'.

Inside, Jack's machines started going wild again. He looked up to see Vlad fly through the wall, a ghost in his clutches. Two human jaws dropped, their eyes going wide.

Maybe this night wasn't a waste after all.

*****

Two year old Danny flapped his arms as he tried to stay afloat. The wind was all around him and the night sky shone with darkness as he kept his eyes clamped shut, trying with all his might to keep afloat and not fall. But it was so hard…

He faltered but he didn’t fall far. Black-gloved hands plucked him out of the sky and held him close to a white-clothed chest. Danny’s big green eyes looked up into shining red ones. He wrapped tiny arms around his uncle Vlad’s neck and hugged him, giggling. “Didya see? Didya see? I flew!”

On the ground Jack watched as his son and his best friend cavorted around the sky. His Maddie stood next to him, her equipment powered up as she searched the area for other ghostly contacts.

“So I have a half ghost son,” Jack mused. “I wonder how that happened.”

Maddie blushed.

“No, it’s fine. I’ve known about you and Vlad for awhile now.” Jack smiled. “Danny has Vlad’s human eyes.” He watched as his son tried again, letting go of Vlad to float in the air next to him. His black and white feety pajamas glowed faintly against the white cloak that Vlad wore, the former lab coat that over the years had begun losing its previous form, morphing into something akin to a red-lined cloak. “But his ghost eyes look more like yours.” Jack sighed. “At least Jazz is mine, right?”

“Jazz looks like your mother,” Maddie said. “And she’s human.”

“True.” Jack embraced her from behind and laid his head on her shoulder. He watched the indicator flash as something flew across the edge of her radar range. One reason they’d moved to Amity Park, the multitude of ghost sightings made their research so much easier. With the barrier between the two worlds so thin here Vlad even said they might be able to restart their portal project out here, perhaps with less soul-flensing results.

“I wonder,” Jack mused. “I mean, I know you’ve thought about it. But… I wonder what Vlad would think about it.”

“About what, dear?” Maddie asked. Another blip appeared in range and hovered there. It seemed to be watching.

“Maybe asking Vlad to join us. I mean, really join us.”

Maddie’s eyebrows went high and she bit her lip, the possibilities hitting her like a brick wall. It was a very intriguing possibility…

The blip began approaching, speeding up. Jack noticed it. “Vlad, we got incoming!” he shouted. Very quickly his arms were filled with a squirming toddler and Vlad was back in the air leading whatever this was away. The lure of Amity Park was also its greatest drawback. The ghosts who infested this town were numerous but they were also vengeful and rather powerful.

***

Five year old Danny crept into his parent’s bedroom. Silent and invisible he snuck up to the side of the big bed and pulled on the closest hand to try and wake them up. A groan could barely be heard over the sound of his daddy snoring. Danny pulled again.

“What is it sweetie,” mumbled a voice, his mommy.

“I wanna drink of water,” Danny whispered.

“Mmm, you do it,” she mumbled. Danny could hear the sound of someone getting kicked. Another sleepy groan came from the bed while his daddy kept snoring.

“I’m up, I’m up,” groaned another voice, his papa.

Danny went visible and grabbed his papa’s hand. He liked his papa. He was half ghost just like he was. And his sister Jazz was a girl just like mommy was. Danny led his papa down to the kitchen. “Papa, Mommy has Jazz and you have me, when’s Daddy gonna have a kid just like him?”

Vlad yawned in the darkness. He let his eyes shine red; it was easier than turning on the light and waking everyone up. “That’s up your daddy, don’t you think?” he asked. “Do you want another brother or sister?”

“I dunno,” Danny said. “Is Daddy lonely?”

“Now why would he be lonely?” Vlad asked. “He has you and me and Mommy and Jazz. Most families don’t have that many.” He grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it from the sink.

“I know,” Danny said. “I was just thinkin’. Some of the kids at school think it’s bad that I got two daddies and a mommy.”

Vlad put the glass of water on the table and pulled his son into a hug. “Oh Danny, my boy,” he purred. “Don’t listen to anything they say. Your daddy isn’t lonely with us. The kids at school just don’t understand that your daddy and mommy and me can love each other so very much.”

Vlad picked up Danny and took him and the glass of water to the living room. “People make fun of what they don’t understand, Danny,” he said as he dropped into an armchair and pulled Danny into his lap. “And they don’t understand our family. But what matters most is that we know we love each other very much.”

“But they get really mean about it.”

Vlad gave a shaky sigh. “I know,” he whispered. “But when they get mean like that I want you to come tell me. When people hurt you they’re supposed to be punished otherwise they won’t learn. Maybe you and I can teach them.”

Danny shook his head. “I’m not supposed to use my powers outside the house unless it’s really dark and everyone comes. You and Daddy said so.”

Vlad smiled. “I think, my boy, it’s time to teach you how to use your powers without getting caught. Then you’ll be able to see what Mommy and Daddy and Papa all do at night when there’s thunder and the wind gets funny.”

Danny’s eyes went wide and he nodded. His papa gave him his glass of water and sent him off to bed.

Vlad purred into the darkness before returning to bed. Two sleepy pairs of arms wrapped around him and pulled him into a tangle embrace. But despite their comfort he couldn’t go back to sleep. Not now.


	8. Day 8: Tucker

Tucker stood in front of the mirror, easing the tailcoat over his t-shirt and cargo pants. Next, the hat. The beanie came off, tossed aside as nothing more than a childhood blanket as he fitted the top hat to his head. He grinned into the mirror. “Foley, Tucker Foley,” he said.

Not quite right. He tried a different grin, something evil like Vlad might use. No, that wasn't it either. Maybe something sleazy...

Yes! That right there. A sleazy grin with a sidelong look. “Foley, Mayor Foley,” he said, adding in his new title.

No, there was still something missing.

“Mayor Tucker Foley, _esquire_.”

That was it. Tucker jumped up and down in place, knocking his top hat askew.

Hmm. He gave himself an annoyed look for his childishness and fixed his hat. Now was no longer the time for childishness. Now he had power. Not piddly do-gooder's power, not evil power, not even ghost powers. No, this wasn't something he had to use for the greater good nor was it something he had to be careful in case something went wrong or he got caught. No, this was political power. _Real_ power. And his first order of business was to look the part.

He gave the mirror that sleazy sidelong grin once more. “Mayor Tucker Foley, esquire.” His hands went to the lapels of his tailcoat, gripping them to emphasize his jacket.

Perfect.


	9. Day 9: a choice...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 9 was meant to be Sam. But May 9th is also the Fenton's anniversary. So we were given a choice.
> 
> I RP as Maddie Fenton on Tumblr. My choice was an easy one.

Hi everybody.

So this strange woman with yellow eyes and a top hat is making me write this. I still don’t know why but she promises there’s cookies if I do it.

So Jack and I had a nice anniversary. He actually listened for once when I told him not to get me fudge. Instead he invented something for me! He’s just the sweetest. This is supposed to latch onto a ghost and compel them into seeking out this transmitter here but so far all it seems good for is bringing Danny home for dinner. Although that’s a mighty gift in and of itself given how often he misses curfew.

I wanted to thank all of you for remembering our anniversary. The art is lovely. I just want to print it out and stick it on the fridge.

The lady in the top hat wants me to tell you what I got Jack for our anniversary. Well, I don’t think they need to know, it’s not something you mention in polite company after all.

Anyway, I wish you all luck with this month of May thing you have going. I’m always thrilled to see so many young people interested in ghosts and ghost hunting. Although perhaps a little more interest in the hunting aspect might be a better idea… Anyway, any time you want to come talk by to talk about ghosts. This house has always been open to Danny’s friends.

So long as you don’t eat all the ham again. Jack pouted for a week that one time.

-Maddie Fenton


	10. Day 10: a choice...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 10 was meant to be 'Westerns'. But because it's a genre challenge we were given a choice. The alternate topic was the Guys in White.
> 
> My choice was easy to make.

Agents Q and Z were on a stakeout in the middle of an old cow pasture. Weeds grew high around their blind, the camo netting doing everything to hide them from the general populace but nothing to hide them from their mark.

It didn't matter how hidden they were, their mark knew they were there. He always knew. And he always flaunted that he knew by sending out a maid with a tray of tea and cookies at the beginning of their shift.

The tray was sitting on a card table, the cookies half-eaten and the tea drank. “Hey, Z, why do we even watch this guy, anyway?” Q asked.

Z sighed as he stared out at their mark's balcony with binoculars. He was standing there breathing the night air. “Don't tell me you don't know about Subject 613,” Z said.

“Who?”

Z sat back and took a cookie from the tray. “Subject 613 was a long term possession case back in the '80s,” he said. “Willing case. Yeah, I know, why would anyone do that. But the ghost had a possession contract with the guy. Not a whole lot we could do to break it.”

“So why isn't he being studied or something?” Q asked. “Or dealt with? Surely we're not just letting him run around unchecked.”

“Of course not,” Z scoffed. “But he'd escaped high-security facilities twice by the time he got himself too well-known to go quietly. And before we could assassinate him properly the ghost... Well... Let's just say there's not much we can do about him now. Not with all our names on a contract in that ghost's hands.”

“Not my name,” Q said.

“Yes your name,” Z said. “Every agent in the organization. Rumor has it the ghost has an artifact quill that writes down all our names when we sign up.”

Q looked frightened. “And this guy we're watching. He's that powerful?”

“The ghost in him is.”

Q picked up his binoculars and looked through them to their mark. Young-looking guy, long white hair. Black suit. Looked creepy enough but... “He looks so human,” Q said.

“Don't let that fool you,” Z said. “He could summon a lightning storm and electrocute us right here if he wanted to. You haven't seen real fear until you've seen those demonic red eyes burning into you like hot coals. And he's a scientist, too. He published reams of research back in the early '90s, advanced our understanding of ghosts almost ten years.”

“I thought you said he was a businessman.”

Z sat back and stole another cookie. “He is,” he said. “One of the richest men in the country. We can't substantiate it but the Organization thinks he's using his ghost to give him an edge. He's taking heavy advantage of the recession, investing in everything he can get ahold of. When things pick back up he's going to be even richer. It's kind of disgusting if you think about it.”

Q stared through his binoculars at the man on the balcony. He shivered as he could swear the man looked right at him and smirked before heading inside. And he'd thought staking out the old Dairy King castle would be easy...


	11. Day 11: Favorite Ghost

Danny sighed as he glared at his textbook. He knew physics would be necessary for becoming an astronaut. He knew an understanding of physics would help him use it mercilessly on the battlefield. He knew physics would look good on college applications, or at least better than last year's Remedial Science 2. He just wished it wasn't entirely made of math. He did not understand math.

He groaned and slammed his head on the kitchen table. He needed a snack.

There was a knock on the door. Danny ignored it, heard his father get it. He didn't care enough about it, not when he was using his precious break time to get a sandwich. Lettuce, cheese, mustard, salami, that would do. He got his sandwich and then sighed as he glared down at his unfinished homework.

He didn't understand this at all.

And then his ghost sense went off. He dropped his head to the table again. He couldn't afford to sneak off, not when his parents were so angry about the score he'd made on his last test. Not with his dad in the next room watching him to make sure he did his homework. Not when he was already so stressed because of this stupid class. Maybe it would go away.

“I, Technus! Master of all things electrical and technological, have been sent here to tutor you in the wonders of Newtonian Physics!”

Danny hid his face in his hands. He wanted to cry.

“He just showed up on the doorstep!” Jack said, clapping his hand on the black latex labcoat of the white-haired ghost. “And I love his style, it's like vintage me! He says his services are already paid for and everything, isn't this great, Danny?”

“Yeah, great,” Danny mumbled.

“Well, I'll leave you both to it,” Jack said. “Now that I don't have to watch you do your homework I can get back to work!” He made a beeline for the lab door, slamming it closed behind him.

Danny turned a forceful glare onto Technus.

“I have accepted a healthy bribe from Plasmius to teach you basic physics,” Technus crowed. “I will not fail in my endeavor! Or I will be forced to return his lavish gifts! I shall remain here until you have understood today's lesson!”

Danny slammed his head back onto the table. He just knew he'd never be allowed to leave this table as long as he lived.


	12. Day 12: Maddie + Kids

Maddie screamed as the pain sliced through her. The morphine was no match for it as spikes of it stabbed into her. It curled her up and forced its echoing shriek out of her before she fell back onto the hospital bed.

This was worse, so much worse than the first time. The first time had been a rush to prepare, stress building to finish everything, to get it all ready, and then it all fell apart. Jack still married her but their reason for rushing, their reason for running away to Vegas to get it over with, it was gone.

Last time had hurt. But it was mostly an emotional hurt. This time...

This time her insides were trying to shred themselves as she screamed again. The waves and waves of pain were so close together now, surely something could be done about it.

Where was Jack, she needed her husband here with her. Why wasn't he here?

She gripped the poor nurse's hand as another wave of pain came crashing through her. Vaguely she could hear someone telling her to breathe, just a little more, come on, breathe.

Now push.

Maddie screamed to high hell.

And then it stopped as she heard a tiny voice.

Everything faded. She didn't hear Jack burst in from the waiting room, two candy stripers trying to drag him back. She didn't hear the doctor tell her it was a baby girl. She didn't hear or feel the nurses as they tried to get her to lie back down. All that mattered was that tiny cry.

After the pregnancy that had caused Jack to propose, that ended in miscarriage the year before, she'd wondered if she'd ever be a mom. And now...

She took the little baby girl the doctor held out for her. She cradled her to her chest, saw her open beautiful blue eyes.

“Jasmine,” she whispered. “Hi. I'm your mommy.”


	13. Day 13: Picture Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I interpreted the theme here... a little old-timey...

Danny shifted in his bonds. He'd been tied up before but never like this, never in such plush, **normal** surroundings. The seats were red velvet, the room dim, and there was a 20 foot screen before him. The glowing ecto-ropes keeping him bound seemed even more out of place because of it all.

He should have expected this from the fruitloop sitting next to him. The bastard even had the audacity to bring in a small bag of popcorn. The smell of salt and melted butter did nothing to calm Danny's bruised and confused ego.

“Why am I here?” Danny demanded.

“Quiet,” Vlad said. He held up the remote and clicked a button. The lights darkened and the screen lit up. “The picture's starting.”

“'Picture'? What, are you serious? Is it the 1920s and I just wasn't told?” Danny pouted, straining against his bonds.

“I said quiet, Daniel, or I'll make you watch this alone.”

Danny squinted at the screen then back to Vlad. Vlad just sat there calmly eating his popcorn, leaning back in his seat, completely comfortable. As if Danny wasn't tied up next to him. “Can I at least have some popcorn?” Danny asked.

“This is supposed to be torture, Daniel,” Vlad warned. “You don't get popcorn. You don't get a good picture, either. You're lucky I didn't want to hurt you too much or I'd have left you here alone.”

Danny looked up at the movie screen. Sure it looked dull and the title was stupid and the colors were all washed out and there was absolutely nothing going on but surely a simple movie couldn't be torture. Could it?

An hour and a half later Vlad tossed his empty popcorn bag into the aisle. “So how about another one?” he asked.

Danny twitched, whimpering softly.

“I'll go get the next one,” Vlad purred, leaving Danny alone in the theater. As he left he couldn't help but laugh maniacally as he heard the boy begin to scream.


	14. Day 14: Danielle

A tiny mote of green light buzzed around Vlad's head while he tried to work. He waved it away like it was an insect rather than one of the clones he'd so painstakingly created. The mote circled around before landing on the tip of one pointed ear. Vlad scowled but allowed it that.

Thus far the glorified firefly was the easiest of his failed clones to deal with. Several hadn't even made it out of their tanks before they dissolved, their faces twisted in agony. The giant hulking brute looked like a gorilla but without the intelligence of one. And the skeleton was less than appealing. Vlad knew that if he were sane these creations would be enough for him to abandon the project. But he couldn't, not when he was so close.

The mote buzzed. If Vlad strained his ears he fancied he could almost hear Daniel's voice...

He closed his eyes and sighed. Even this one would melt, unstable as it was. They all would. They all did. The brute was the least stable, sucking down vial after vial of the stabilizers he'd prepared to keep them solid for at least a little while. Vlad didn't think it would last another two weeks.

“This will work,” Vlad said. He heard the mote buzz questioningly. “One of you has to work. I can't stop now. If I do then everything we've been through, it'll all have been for nothing. I can't do that to you.”

Vlad felt the oddest sensation, like tiny arms trying to embrace his ear-tip. He sighed. What he wanted most was to feel arms like that around the rest of him, someone large enough to hold, solid enough to last. Someone who wasn't going to melt away in a few short days, weeks, even months was unacceptable. How could he get close to something that was just going to die in the near future? How could he pour his heart and soul into loving something knowing that it would melt away in his arms? In agony?

He couldn't. Vlad wasn't that cruel.

He took the latest reading on his newest clone. This one was another failure. Doomed to die before it had really lived. But it was the most human-looking of the bunch, maybe he could give it some purpose to its short, miserable life. Something more than the others had.

He would use this failure to ensure none of them died in vain.

Vlad placed his hand on the glass tank, his red eyes looking sadly at the girl floating within. He could never love her, same as he could never love the others. They would die too soon and when they did they would rip his heart out. No, better to give her a purpose, a reason for being. 

It was better to give her life meaning instead of letting her die knowing what she was missing.


	15. Day 15: Ectoplasm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two entries. First, a scientific paper on the subject. Second, the beginnings of a new tentacle fic.

In its natural state ectoplasm resembles a supercritical fluid, a gaseous liquid that flows and bubbles and pools but that climbs and gropes and envelopes. In its natural state ectoplasm seems to be attempting to exist in a realm too hot and too pressurized for it to transition to any other phase. Cooling it forces it out of its supercritical state as does putting it under vacuum. Yet the triple point cannot be determined with any real accuracy. Differences in physical location, differences in equipment, even differences in the observing scientist all change the data.

Despite its natural state ectoplasm can be sculpted and formed like a solid. As protoplasm can form cells when confined behind membranes so too can ectoplasm form structures. But unlike cells, ectoplasm does not require membranes, cell walls, or even physical structure. As though ectoplasm brings the physical properties of its realm with it, all it needs to maintain structure is thought. Emotion. Will. 

Through application of this force of will, ectoplasm can be used to craft constructs. An artificially created construct requires application of a specific emotion or set of emotions to maintain its inherent structure. In the case of naturally occurring constructs (ie ghosts) this force of will comes from within and is bolstered by the presence of one or more obsessions.

Without an obsession to bolster will, a ghost begins to fade. The first external cue is the loss of color. Next is the loss of inherent power, or its ability to affect the world around it either through application of 'ghost powers' within the physical universe or the ability to affect changes to its lair within the Ghost Zone. Finally, the ghost begins to lose form as its will breaks down and base ectoplasm escapes into the surrounding environment. At any point in this progression a ghost can acquire a new obsession, thus halting the deterioration. However, any loss of form will remain permanent unless the ghost chooses to begin the process of artificially crafting constructs to supplement itself.

Artificially crafting constructs in this manner is a dangerous proposition as there is no guarantee that the construct will not gain sentience and escape.

-Masters, V. _Physical Properties of Ectoplasm and its Uses_. Unpublished. 1996.

*****

Vlad all but fell into the hot bath. Toffee brittle, he was sore all over. His back hurt, his hands hurt, his neck hurt, and he was very sure he'd pulled something vital in his chest. He groaned as the heat invaded him, warmth going to work on his sore muscles and his more minor injuries.

Daniel was getting stronger every day. And while Vlad ruled Amity Park with all the iron-fisted strength of city hall, Plasmius still had to make his attempts to keep the local hero Phantom in line. The problem was, Vlad's power had plateaued a long time ago while Daniel's hadn't even reached its peak yet. Vlad knew that eventually he would be made to yield. But today was not that day. 

Even if it felt like it.

Vlad stretched out in the tub as he got the vague feeling that he wasn't alone. The barest movement slipped past his legs as he laid there, his eyes closed against the onslaught.

His eyes shot open as there was a splash, as something grabbed his wrists and ankles to hold him still. He looked down to see the pink tentacles spreading through the clear bathwater, as they began to probe and press. “Not today,” he said, sounding as tired as he felt. “I'm too sore for this today.”

The tentacles paused before slumping and beginning to pull away.

“No, you don't have to leave,” Vlad implored. “Just... I need to feel good, okay? I've had a long, bad day.”

The tentacles paused again before sliding back into the tub. Vlad arched as he felt their caress spread up his spine to drape around his neck, their pressure slowly beginning to massage away the worse of the ache. He moaned, his eyes falling closed again.

***

Danny stormed into Vlad's mansion. He didn't care how sore he was or how badly he'd been beaten, he wasn't finished with Vlad. He followed his ghost sense through the corridors to a closed door, phasing through it. “And another thing, Plasmius,” he started. Danny's rant died on his lips as he took in the scene.

Vlad was in the bathtub. This wasn't the first time he'd stormed in on the fruitloop to find him in a bath of something; Danny had lost his ability to care after the whole mudbath thing. But this was weirder. Vlad seemed to be stuck in a bathtub of... pink ectoplasm? Except it wasn't quite liquid like ectoplasm, there were odd shapes under and along the surface that were doing... things?

“Don't you get tired of storming in on me when I'm naked?” Vlad drawled.

“Don't change the subject,” Danny snapped. But he couldn't remember what he was here to rant about. “What the hell is that?”

Vlad stretched, feeling the tentacles help him pull and move. He laid back, one hand falling over the edge of the tub. “It's an ectoplasmic construct,” he said. “It found me one day in the Ghost Zone. Never left.”

“And... why are you bathing in it?” Danny asked.

“That wasn't my intention. But I'm not complaining.” A roving tentacle climbed along Vlad's dangling hand and started probing around. It could sense that there was someone else here...

“Ew.”

Vlad rolled his eyes.

“So it's a construct,” Danny said, backing away from the meandering tentacle. He had the oddest feeling that it might be reaching for him. “I thought you said constructs feed on people. Like imprints.”

“Not like imprints,” Vlad corrected. “But they do feed on emotion. They... inspire that emotion they're looking to feed on and then they drain the excess.” He glanced over at Danny, saw the disturbed look in his eyes. “Oh don't worry. This construct's been feeding on me for over ten years now. If it was going to do something horrible to me it would have already.”

Danny heard the door close behind him. A trail of slime was smeared over the door, the mark of a tentacle trying to trap him in here. And then he felt something slide around his wrist.

“But thanks to your actions, Little Badger, I can't feed it today,” Vlad purred. “And it is hungry.”

Danny gasped as a feeling began to spread through him, an urge to let these tentacles have their way with him. Shocked eyes turned on Vlad before Danny yanked his wrist away and shot off through the ceiling.

The tentacles slumped down, seemingly dejected, before crawling back into the bathtub. One slid up Vlad's cheek, almost imploring.

“Oh all right,” Vlad allowed. “But be careful. I'm sore enough already.”

The gentle drape turned to an embrace.


	16. Day 16: The Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'The Ultimate Enemy' showed Amity Park ten years in the future and they all had flying cars. Well it's been ten years. Where's the flying cars?

If there was one thing Danny knew about the future it was that there were supposed to be flying cars. He'd been promised flying cars. Even if that promise had consisted of Clockwork's portal open to a horrible future, the ruins of civilization broken at the feet of his evil self. A promise was still a promise. And that promise had involved flying cars.

So he didn't understand why he was here in a coffee shop, 24 years old, sitting across from his friend Tucker as the other man fiddled with a slingshot on his tablet, shooting tiny birdies at a structure hiding ghost pigs. “Dude, where's the flying cars?” he asked.

Tucker hummed and pulled the slingshot back, hissing his triumph when the birdy smashed into the side of the structure and caused the ghost pigs to blow up. His score popped up.

“Tucker, put it down,” Danny said. “You can wait a minute.”

“Right,” Tucker said, trying to turn his attention to his friend. He folded his hands, all ready to listen. And then his smartphone rang. Tucker gestured for some time to take this and immediately fell into a discussion with his coworkers at the governor's office.

Danny sighed and sipped his coffee, looking around. People still walked on the street, none of them flying anywhere on jetpacks. Most of them had things in their ears or smartphones in their hands. Some of them even had those new AR-glasses that he'd heard Tucker gushing about the year before. But there were no flying cars. A lot of the cars made no noise, sure, electrical engines didn't produce sound. But they didn't fly.

Tucker got off the phone, that problem settled. “Sorry about that, Danny,” Tucker said. “The fruitloop got himself involved in a scandal again and he wants us underlings to pull him out. You were saying?”

“There's no flying cars, Tucker,” Danny said.

“Yeah, and?”

“So I was promised flying cars! Clockwork himself showed me flying cars by 2014. Well, here we are. It's 2014 and there's no flying cars.”

Tucker rolled his eyes. He pulled out his smartphone. “Dude, we have computers that fit in the palms of our hands,” he said. “We have glasses that can show us the display directly in front of our eyes and we can still see to walk around. We can print our own DNA. We can build living things from scratch. Heck, we can even grow bacon in a lab and it tastes right. This is indeed the future.”

Danny hmmphed.

“And you'd have crashed your flying car anyway.”

“I would not,” Danny defended.

Tucker patted Danny on the shoulder and finished his cup of coffee. “I gotta get back to work. See you around, Danny.”

Danny waved as Tucker left. He went back to sighing as he watched people wander past. He didn't care if he'd have crashed his flying car, he still wanted one.


	17. Day 17: Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst. It doesn't require blood or death or even dismemberment. All it requires is suggestion.

Vlad watched the two of them, his face kept carefully dispassionate. His best friend and the woman he loved. That bond of friendship had shattered well over twenty years ago, damaged again and again by the actions of the one who'd begun the bond. Vlad wasn't even sure why he'd gone along with Jack's crazy schemes so long ago if they'd only end with his heart broken and that friendship scattered in pieces around him.

Ugh, and they were kissing again. He didn't comprehend what she saw in him. He'd just take that same sledgehammer to their bond, couldn't she see that? Jack had destroyed every friendship, every relationship he had, leaving a trail of dreams behind him like scattered leaves. 

All she had to do was say the word and Vlad would gladly take her away from him, steal her in the night, whatever it took. Anything to save her from the inevitable conclusion in which Jack crumpled her up and left her on the side of the road the same way he'd done before. The same way he always did.

Vlad turned away in disgust as he held her fast in his arms, his face roving over hers with all the grace of a slab of raw liver.

How did she stand him?

***

Maddie wasn't entirely sure why she put up with him anymore. But she kept smiling even though it didn't quite reach her eyes. She had to. Everything she'd done, everything she'd accomplished was wrapped up in Fentonworks. But Jack had such a raging ego that everything bore his name, his trademark, his **face** on everything! Even the bread was molded to look like him. Could a man get any more self-centered?

She remembered when she'd gotten pregnant the first time. They were so angry at each other over it that she wasn't sure how or even why he'd proposed. She'd been scared, terrified of what this would mean for her future. She wanted to be a mother, of course, but not yet, not right now, not while she was still in grad school.

Not with him.

Even after she lost the baby they still went through with the marriage. He'd insisted. Why hadn't she left?

Maddie's eyes noticed a movement, saw a flash of black suit and white hair. If only she'd had another option.

But she hadn't. And she still didn't. Not with children in the picture.

***

Jack felt the presence watching him. Something about the accident had left Vlad with an almost oppressive force of personality, given his gaze an inhuman sense of weight. He held his wife closer in response, kissing her deeply. She wasn't as into it as he was, he could tell, so he increased the force of it, dipping her and licking at her lips.

He remembered how Vlad was in college, pining after Maddie when he thought neither of them were looking. He remembered the reunion when Vlad started hitting on Maddie with all of the force of personality the accident had granted him. God, he'd been so obvious! Of course Jack noticed it. He even noticed the way she looked at him, the regret in her eyes.

That same regret in them now.

Jack lifted her in his arms and, completely ignoring the fact that they had company, carried her up the stairs. He would make sure she knew where she belonged. The kids could keep Vlad occupied for a while.


	18. Day 18: Mind Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During 'Urban Jungle' and starring 'Anonymous Citizen'

The spores drifted through the air, infecting everything foolhardy enough to breathe. He slapped his hand over his face and tried to run, tried to escape, tried to do something...

Black spots danced in front of his eyes as he refused to breathe those spores. Pale green, glowing slightly, they looked like the unholy egg sacks of a brown widow spider. He couldn't breathe those spores, not as he watched the people all around him falling, collapsing, and then getting up...

He didn't want to...

His legs folded as he fell to hands and knees in the street and took a deep gasp...

And then he began to fall.

He took a few frantic steps, trying to crawl away from the strangely chicken-like ghost behind him but he couldn't feel his hands. And then his limbs. And then everything went dark...

He awoke some time later, no idea how long. Where was he? Wait, why was he moving? His hands were doing things, his mouth trying to form words, there was something in the back of his neck, what was going on?

He couldn't stop it.

He tried to move something, anything, anything to break this hold over his body. Nothing worked, nothing was his anymore, he couldn't say anything, couldn't move, couldn't even breathe!

Please... Anything... Something...

No...

Trapped in the back of his mind he began to scream.


	19. Day 19: Torture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Infinite Realms could have gone quite differently...
> 
> A warning:
> 
> _I did the research_

The villagers lifted Sam and began to bind her with rope. All the while she screamed about their idiocy, their small-mindedness, how all they had to do was open their eyes...

Vlad Masters sauntered forward. Ah, the five months he'd spent here in this primitive hellhole were suddenly made worth it. And here was young Daniel come to save his idiot girlfriend from the fires. Except, no, she had already been wreathed in blood blossoms. He would never be able to save her, forced to watch her burn alive in front of his eyes.

Except, wait... The boy Tucker shot forward to eat the flowers. Vlad grabbed his shirt and dragged him back. “Oh but good people,” Vlad called over the din. “Why should we be so quick to burn her?”

The townsfolk turned on him, confused and a little suspicious.

“Consider the words coming from her addled brain,” Vlad said. “She may merely be bewitched. She is dressed like a wanton, maybe she's just a common scold who's lost her mind to the monster writhing on the ground before her?”

The mob began to murmur. Vlad recognized the anticipation. He kept his grip on the Foley boy even as Tucker relaxed, as the torch was pulled away from his friend. She wasn't going to be burned. Not today.

“Nightingale,” Vlad barked.

“Sir!”

Vlad turned anticipatory eyes to the witch hunter in the impressively large orange coat. John Fenton-Nightingale had the same look of wanting. “Weave a wreath of blood blossoms,” Vlad purred. “The ghost boy will suffer the wounds of the Lord ere he's put down. As for the scold... I'm thinking the dunking stool.”

“And if she's unclean?” Nightingale asked. “I mean, if she survives she must be possessing an unholy pact with that black and white spirit in the circle.”

“Then we'll just have to find out what her pact is,” Vlad said. 

“Wait, what do you mean 'if' she survives?!” Tucker demanded. “You're going to kill her!”

“Eventually,” Vlad said. “We should see if there's a way to cleanse this one, too. I'm sure somebody could use a field hand.”

“Yes, my son Damien and his wife Anthea could use the help,” Nightingale said. “Newlyweds and all.”

“Of course, of course. Meanwhile I'm sure we can find someplace for this one. I'll lock him in the joggs, you tend to the ghost.”

“Yes, Sir, Vladdy!” Nightingale said, bounding off toward the mob.

“That's kind of eerie,” Tucker said.

“You have no idea,” Vlad agreed.

Still, Tucker struggled as Vlad dragged him away, as he could still hear the pained screams and ranting shouts of his best friends.

***

Tucker leaned against the wall of the stone building. The iron collar around his neck itched. It was heavy, too, and he couldn't get it off. Worse, the chain was so short he couldn't sit down. “Man, this bites,” he lamented.

“It is not spiked,” said a voice Tucker knew and yet didn't. “Are you a demon then who cannot stand the purity of iron?”

Tucker glared at the old guy who looked and sounded so much like Jack Fenton. “It's an expression,” he snapped.

“I see,” Nightingale said. “You came with the scold and the spectral menace, perhaps you can tell me something.”

Tucker glared.

“When I placed the wreath of blood blossoms upon the brow of the ghost it fainted and enfolded itself within a human guise. What puzzles me, though, is why that guise looks so much like the form of my son Damien.”

Tucker's glare melted into confusion.

“Now I cannot parade about the specter as I should for fear of it taking its human guise. There is already enough talk of our family being cursed. All the best witch hunters are cursed, you see. And I am the very best in this colony. The... only in this colony but that's beside the point.”

“What is your point?” Tucker asked.

“What do you know of the creature's guise?” Nightingale demanded.

Tucker crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

“You're resisting, aren't you.”

Tucker nodded.

Nightingale lit up with a great smile. “Oh goody, this'll be so much fun! I have so many inventions I've never had the chance to try! You have no idea how boring it is living in a colony where we burn all our witches. Never get a chance to use all the neat torture devices I invent!”

Tucker gulped. This was... bad.

***

It wasn't just bad. It was worse.

A dull, blinding pain lanced through Tucker as he tried not to move. The weights tied to his feet were not helping one iota.

“I call it the Nightingale Horse,” Nightingale shouted from below him. Tucker glared down with hazy pain-filled eyes at the man in orange standing ten feet below him. “I figure two hours a day to start with. We don't want to damage you permanently. And this way you can still talk, unlike the scold you so innocently call your 'friend'.”

“What do you mean 'unlike Sam'?!” Tucker demanded.

“Why, she's locked into a scold's bridle until the dunking stool is built,” Nightingale dismissed. “Her voice is quite grating. And she must be bewitched if 'shouting' is her only mode of speaking. Everyone knows only shrews and scolds shout, ever.”

Tucker shifted, trying to do something. He shrieked as the point of the horse bit into him.

“But tell me, how does this make you feel? I've always wanted to know.”

“Why not get on it,” Tucker scowled.

Nightingale gave a distasteful look and gestured to someone on the ground. The weighted ropes dangling from Tucker's feet were pulled, wrenching a scream from him. “I'll ask you once more,” Nightingale said, glaring. “How does this make you feel.”

Tucker glared right back. It didn't last long as the ropes were pulled again and the world began to fall. Vaguely he heard someone screaming and then a thud.

Nightingale slapped a hand over his face as Tucker passed out and was dragged off the horse. He glared at the two idiots who were supposed to be pulling the ropes. “No, no, no, you artless wagtails, you're supposed to pull in tandem,” he snapped. “Otherwise the subject falls off!” 

***

Danny came to, exhausted. For some reason his arms ached and he itched all over. His eyes burned as he opened them to face someone he knew all too well. He hawked a loogie and spat, aiming right for the eyes.

Vlad pulled back but not fast enough. He wiped the saliva from his eye. “Well then,” he said. He gestured and the ropes began to tighten.

Danny looked around, confused. He realized his wrists were tied together behind his back as they were raised behind him. He struggled, trying to undo them as his arms were folded back as far as they would go. And still the rope tightened, lifting his feet off the floor as his shoulders went from ache to silent scream. “Dammit, Vlad, you sick fuck!” Danny shouted. “I'm going ghost!”

Vlad placed a necklace of blood blossoms over Danny's head just as his hair turned white. Pain lanced through him as the itching turned to outright fire, all but overshadowing the pain in his shoulders. He screamed and writhed even as a sickening pop suddenly had one shoulder twisted unnaturally.

“Must you make such a big production about this?” Vlad drawled. “Just give me the map and this will all be over. You'll be able to save your little friends before they become... irreparably damaged. Who knows, you might even discover a portal back to the Ghost Zone on your own. Maybe in a few years you'll be able to go home.”

Danny kicked at Vlad, trying to at least bloody him a little.

Vlad caught Danny's boot and pulled. A second pop heralded Danny's other shoulder dislocating. White rings appeared around his waist but didn't go anywhere. Vlad gestured again and Danny was lowered back to the floor.

Danny fell to his knees, hurting too much to stand. He didn't entirely know what was going on when a double-edged steel spike was fitted between his chest and his chin, holding his head up.

“Keep his arms tied,” Vlad commanded. “If the specter manages to expel the fork just put it back. We don't want him passing out.”

Danny glared at Vlad as the man sauntered off.

***

The first thing Sam did when the scold's bridle was removed was demand water. The mob laughed though she wasn't entirely sure why until...

“What do you think you're doing?!” she demanded. “You can't do this to me! I'm not a witch! You're all just stupid! Let me go!”

“The scold isn't very smart,” Nightingale observed.

“Doesn't seem like it,” Vlad agreed. “Perhaps her idiocy is what allowed her to be enthralled to the specter.”

“She might even be a changeling,” Nightingale said, growing excited. “They tend to be outspoken idiots. Ooo, I hope so. I've never seen a changeling get dunked. I wonder if she'll sink at all.”

“Shall we unweight the chair so you can see?” Vlad asked.

Nightingale sighed wistfully. He ordered the girl to be tied to the chair and the dunking apparatus wheeled to the edge of the river. “Maybe after we get some sort of confession out of her,” he said.

“You can't be serious!” Sam cried. “I'm not a witch! _I'm not a witch!_ You can't **do** this to me!”

“Drop her!” Nightingale shouted.

The chair was lowered into the river as Sam screamed. A gurgle sounded from the river as she went under.

“Definitely an idiot,” Nightingale observed. “She didn't even try to hold her breath.” He gestured and the rope was pulled, bringing her back to the surface.

Sam coughed and sputtered as she thrashed in her bonds. Another gesture and she was dunked again to the delight of the mob. A cascade of bubbles streamed to the surface as she screamed underwater and was brought back up.

“Tell me your connection with the spectral menace!” Nightingale shouted.

“He's not a menace!” Sam cried.

Again she fell underwater. She kicked and thrashed on her meager breath, trying to loosen the ropes, pull herself to the surface, anything to avoid the drowning that was sure to come. And then she was brought back up.

“The stool's weighted, my dear Samantha,” Vlad purred. “If those weights fall you'll surely float. Nobody as impure as yourself could ever sink properly. And then you'll need to be cleansed in the fire. Keep thrashing and I assure you those weights will come undone.”

Sam went still with fear before she went back to her attempts to escape. She went under again, water flooding her nose. She snorted underwater, trying not to loose all her air. Her lungs burned and the world started going dark. And then the sun was back along with the jeering crowd, that man who looked so much like Danny's father, and Vlad's evil, evil eyes. But the anticipation in Nightingale's eyes... Suddenly Sam realized why Danny had never told his parents.

She went under again, this time without thrashing. She closed her eyes and conserved her air. She knew she had to get out of this but she had to be alive to do so. What was it she'd learned in history class? The only way to prove innocence was to drown?

She was brought back up again. And then she realize what she had to do. “The specter's name is Phantom and he has an accomplice!” she shouted.

Nightingale motioned for the boys with the rope to pause. He wanted to hear this.

“The specter's accomplice walks among you in human guise,” she shouted. “A demon in pious clothing! None other than your beloved Vladimir Masters!”

The mob grew quiet. Vlad went still as he realized so many eyes were turning to him. And the whispers.

“He did just appear one day.”

“His speech was so strange. So much like theirs.”

“What if he is one?”

“He did warn us there were witches coming. He's the one who suggested we abandon hanging for burning.”

“We have to make sure...”

Vlad backed away even as the mob closed in on him and shoved him into the river. He swam to the surface. “You idiots!” he snarled. “You'd believe anything that came out of a witch's mouth if it meant getting to toy with another soul!” But they were all... looking at him... like that?

Sam giggled from the chair, still held on the surface. “Vlad, you float,” she said.

Vlad's eyes turned red as the mob began to turn against him. He snarled at them and took to the air before taking his ghost form. The screams were music to his ears but the symphony only lasted so long before Nightingale started trying to ward him away with those damned blood blossoms. Vlad swooped down and phased Sam out of the dunking stool even as the rope was dropped and the chair sank out of sight.

“Not so fun from this angle is it, Vlad,” Sam taunted.

Vlad growled at her and let her drop so he was carrying her by her ankle. “Samantha Manson, I will drop you back in the river,” he warned. “Thanks to your little stunt I now have to grab Daniel before the mob finds him. Do you have any idea what they'll do to an artifact like that map?”

“All you care about is the stupid map!” Sam shouted. She grabbed her skirt and tried to hide her panties from his view. “And don't look down!”

Vlad looked down, visibly disinterested, and looked back as he flew into the church. He dropped Sam among the pews, not caring if she landed uninjured. He smirked at the crack; he guessed she didn't. He left her there as he descended the steps behind the altar into the catacombs. He found Daniel in a chamber, trapped in his ghost form by the blood blossoms around his neck, the heretic's fork under his throat, the summoning circle around him... Bleary green eyes opened at him, too glazed to properly glare. Vlad stepped forward, staying on the far side of the summoning circle. He grabbed an iron rod from the wall and tore the necklace of flowers away. “Wake up, Daniel,” Vlad growled.

Danny closed his eyes and let himself fall out of ghost form. He went limp as he did, the pain overwhelming him. Vlad snarled and used the rob to drag Danny out of the circle, close enough to where he could pull the heretic's fork out of him. Blood welled from where the spikes had penetrated his chest and neck, his arms were stuck in odd angles as his shoulders were still dislocated, and Vlad knew that the boy was sore in so many other ways from various implements used on him. “All you had to do was give me the map,” Vlad lamented. “That's all I wanted. Then you and your friends wouldn't have gotten hurt like this.”

“Fuck... you...” Danny mumbled.

Vlad chuckled and lifted Danny around his middle before flying away. “I see you still have your fire,” Vlad purred. “That's good. That means you'll recover.”

Danny struggled weakly, whining as the movement jostled his arms.

“Give me the map, Daniel, and I'll pop your shoulders back in,” Vlad offered. “If you don't you'll start to lose feeling. Function. What would it be like to go through like without arms, I wonder...”

“My... my friends...”

“I left them in the dubious care of your father's illustrious ancestor,” Vlad allowed.

“You... bastard...”

“They'll be all right,” Vlad assured. “The boy will never be able to sire children and the girl almost drowned on her own stupidity. Honestly, if you're being forced underwater you're supposed to hold your breath.”

“Hate... you so... much...”

“I know, little badger. The map?”

“No...”

“Then I leave you three here. There are other settlements I can infiltrate. I admit, I never considered I'd be conquering an era that has yet to invent the flush toilet. But if you ignore that and the glaring lack of ice cream... it's not that bad.”

Danny glared. Vlad landed them in the forest outside the town. The chants of 'burn the demon, burn the witch, burn the specter' could still be heard on the edge of the trees. Vlad grabbed one of Danny's arms and twisted, setting the joint back together. He clamped his hand over Danny's mouth to try and stifle the scream before pulling away and letting the boy gasp. As soon as angry blue eyes turned back to him he popped the second shoulder back in. Danny's scream broke through Vlad's hand and the chanting paused before changing direction.

Coming closer.

“Give me the map or we die here,” Vlad threatened. “They'll burn us both.”

Danny glared at Vlad and shook his head.

“Danny!”

Both Danny and Vlad turned to the new shout. Sam was helping a hobbling Tucker through the forest. She waved at them. “Good thing you screamed or we wouldn't have been able to find you!”

“Give me the map or they die too,” Vlad said. “Do you really think your father's ancestor would let them go? Especially after what she's said and done?”

Danny looked at his friends. He couldn't... He sighed and pulled the map out of his shirt.

Vlad bowed slightly as he took the map and opened it.

The world changed.


	20. Day 20: Cujo

Maddie stretched out on her pillow, lazily waving in the air. Ah, this was the life. No cares, no worries, nothing to do but lay on the couch all day and watch daytime talk shows. All her food was provided, prepared to her exacting specifications. She had toys and devices to hone her skills and keep her occupied, a whole room full of them. Not a single drawback at all.

Hands wrapped around her middle and dragged her off her pillow. She growled a warning but they didn't seem to notice. Well, perhaps there were some drawbacks.

Hands carried her to the sitting room where her Guy had something for her to play with. Oh, but it was just the black and white board with the little figures on it. This was boring. He wouldn't let her bat at them or chew on them or anything. No, she was just allowed to sit there while he talked. She couldn't even climb into his lap and rub her tasteful white hairs all over the black fabric he covered himself with. 

He set her on the pillow across from his chair. She murred. _This game is boring!_ But he merely scratched her behind the ears and went to sit down.

“Your move, my dear,” he said.

Maddie curled up on her new pillow and huffed. As expected he moved a piece on her side before moving one on his. She ignored him, instead figuring now was a better time to wash her face.

“Really, Maddie, if you're not going to pay attention then why are we playing?”

She gave him an annoyed look and jumped down from her pillow. She raised her tail at him and bolted off. Surely there was something less boring around here to do or play with or...

What was that smell? It smelled almost like...

DOG!!

Maddie jumped up and spun around, trying to find that stinky dog scent. Her tail lashed and she murred in the empty corridor. It didn't look like there was a dog here...

“Woof!”

Except there was! Maddie jumped at the sound directly behind her. She could hear panting but she couldn't see where it was coming from! She yowled. _Show yourself! Wretched canine, begone from my domain!_

Nothing changed. And then she felt the tongue lave across her face. She glared as the green form of the puppy faded into view. He crouched in a play-bow and wagged his tail. “Urf!”

He didn't seem dangerous. He was smaller than she was. And she was ever so bored...

Oh just this once.

She batted him across the nose. He barked and jumped her, the two rolling off down the corridor.

This was... kind of fun.


	21. Day 21: Handcuffs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had two ideas. The first one contains porn set in the same AU as Day 7. The second one is post-series (and Danny _still_ gets detention)

Vlad pulled at the handcuffs holding him captive. The glowing green metal held his powers in check, kept him from phasing his way out of this predicament.

Two sets of eyes bored into his own. An elegant black-gloved hand stretched forward with a pair of scissors, slicing away the shirt he wore. The fabric was peeled away as fingers wrapped in black vinyl traced the lines of his chest.

“What do you think?”

“A perfect specimen, doctor.”

“Yes, I think so too. I wonder what it's capable of...”

Vlad growled, making a show of testing the strength of his bonds. His eyes flashed with challenge and more than a little anticipation.

Two figures stepped into the light. Vlad bit his lip, purring at the sight. Maddie looked beautiful as always with those long black gloves and boots pulled up to her luscious thighs. She still held the scissors in her hand, contemplating using them on the rest of his clothes. He let his eyes roam around her skin, realizing that the boots and gloves were all she wore. He licked his lips before turning to the second figure. Ah, and Jack had dropped all of the trappings of the role, deciding instead to just go nude. Vlad looked him up and down, his eyes full of want.

Maddie climbed up on the bed where Vlad was handcuffed, her elegant hands making short work of Vlad's belt. He lifted his hips as she shimmied his pants down and off. Big hands pulled his legs apart as she knelt between them. He could feel the leather cuffs strap around his ankles, could tell that these weren't ghost proof. A small, deft hand fondled him as he found his body very quickly becoming interested.

“A rather interesting reaction, don't you think?” she asked.

Jack laid his head on her shoulder and a hand on Vlad's thigh. “Yes, doctor,” he agreed. “I think we should see how far we can push him. See what it takes.”

“Ooo, that sounds fun,” she said. Maddie trailed her hands up Vlad's torso, barely tracing the lines in his skin, scars and muscles, before coming to his neck. She squeaked as Jack's hands went to her hips 'to hold her steady'. She gave Jack a playful look before turning her attentions back to Vlad.

Vlad purred as black-wrapped fingers trailed over his face. He nipped the end of a fingertip before licking along its length and wrapping his lips around it. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked, his eyes taunting her, inviting...

Maddie pulled away before grabbing Jack for a deep kiss. Vlad groaned at the sight and pulled against the cuffs holding him prisoner. He wanted more, to do more than lie here as his 'captors' enjoyed themselves.

“I see it objects when not the center of attention,” she said.

“Yes, doctor,” Jack whispered.

“I'll gag him, you have your fun,” she said before crawling up the bed to straddle Vlad's face. She arched and sighed as she felt his tongue on her core, felt his purr reverberate through her entire body.

Jack pulled her into a searing kiss before grasping Vlad's ankles. He tapped them twice and Vlad obliged, letting them go intangible so Jack could slip the leather cuffs away. Jack folded those legs back, bracing them on his shoulders as he fingered Vlad's asshole. Vlad gave a squeak and a moan, echoed and transmitted through Maddie as she repeated his sounds for him.

Jack grabbed the lube and slathered himself up before pressing inside. He buried himself balls-deep in his lover, leaning forward to kiss his wife. She moaned into the kiss as Vlad stuck his tongue deep inside her. 

And then Jack began to move. Vlad's legs wrapped tightly around him as Maddie grabbed at Jack, needing something to hold onto as lips wrapped around her clit.

Vlad fought his bonds. He needed to hold, to grasp, to squeeze. Instead all he could do was take it as his two lovers had their way with him. He couldn't see anything past the beautiful curve of Maddie's ass, couldn't smell or taste anything other than her incredible arousal as he traced her lips with his tongue and laved her clit. Hands on his thighs held him captive as Jack rutted against him, slid in and out of his ass. And there wasn't a single thing he could do about it.

When they'd suggested they three roleplay 'ghost hunters and captive' he hadn't been too sure. He should never have doubted them.

*****

Click. Squeak. Kishhhh. Click. Squeak. Kishhhh.

“Mr. Fenton!”

Danny looked up at Mr. Lancer and scowled, putting the handcuffs down. Detention was always so _boring_ and this one was no different. It didn't help that he was the only one here.

“Why, exactly, do you own a pair of handcuffs?” Lancer asked.

Danny looked at the handcuffs on his desk. Standard police issue. He'd ordered them from some fetish website while his parents were looking for inventive ideas on ghost restraints. He didn't carry the key, though. He didn't need to. “They remind me,” Danny said.

The chair next to his scraped as Lancer sat down. “Remind you?” he asked. “Of what?”

Danny sighed before picking the handcuffs up again. He tripped the latch with a click then opened them with a squeak. “They remind me,” he said again. “My powers are a lot like these handcuffs. I can take ghosts off the streets and toss them back in the Zone but they don't stay there. They come right back. And so I can't move on or do anything but continue stopping them. I'm as trapped as they are. Without a future.”

Lancer watched Danny play with the handcuffs again, an almost automatic movement that involved some dextrous intangibility. “Well, you know what they say in prison,” Lancer said. “Free your mind.”

Danny gave Lancer an annoyed glare. “And how do I do that?” he demanded.

“That's up to you.”


	22. Day 22: Valerie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little post-Phantom Planet...

The hoverboard carried her through the sky, her suit clinging to her like a second skin. Valerie hoisted her bazooka on her shoulder, crouched down to give a smaller profile, to cut down on wind resistance. She needed the speed as the breathing apparatus of her suit whined against the strain of far too much speed, as she chased her ever elusive quarry. Her mortal enemy.

He flew in front of her, darting just out of range. He flew for his unlife, not even stopping to toss clever quips or plead his innocence. Ectoplasm dripped from a slice in his side, a wound she took pride in causing. A single white-gloved hand tried desperately to hold his organs in as he continued to fly.

As he continued to lose speed. He was slowing down. But she could tell by his rasping sounds, by the tears falling, by the trail of green evaporating into the night sky... He did not want to.

He didn't want a lot of things she was going to do to him as she pressed her hoverboard beyond its limit and moved in close enough for the kill shot.

Bam.

She whooped as Phantom fell from the sky, meandering in a wheeling, drunken spin as he splattered against the asphalt. She landed nearby and walked up to him, triumph in her eyes.

Phantom looked up at her, gasping for breath. Wait, since when did ghosts need to breathe?

White rings split over his broken body and she began to scream.

She was still screaming as she woke up.

Valerie sat up in bed, bile rising in her throat. She tamped it down, refused to get sick because of a simple nightmare. Instead she took deep breaths to calm herself as she gazed around the room, trying to calm her pounding heart. Her list of ghost enemies, Phantom's name crossed off the list in bright red ink. Newspaper clippings about the statues of Phantom erected all over the world, there to stand for a year and a day. Photos of herself and Danny at their graduation ceremony. He looked so small...

She remembered what she'd almost done to him so many times.

“Why didn't he tell me sooner?” she whispered.


	23. Day 23: Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was always something familiar about that window but he couldn't remember what.

Youngblood sat outside the window, trusting his power over adult's perceptions to keep him hidden. Two people within, a man and a woman, held a baby girl in their arms. The woman, the mother, bounced the girl as she cried, trying to calm her down so she could sleep. The man, the father, kept trying to put his arms around the both of them.

This window always seemed so familiar. Something about it tugged at him like something he used to know. The people inside seemed familiar, too, but older than they should be. Tired. Haunted. Like they'd seen or perhaps lost something close to them.

Youngblood sighed into the night. He wondered what it would be like to have a family. For some reason he couldn't attach himself to one in the Ghost Zone. It never felt right. The monsters, the ghosts, the creatures there weren't his parents. The closest he'd found was Ember and she was more like a cool older sister or maybe a favored babysitter. No, for some reason every time he thought of family he always thought of these people here.

He flew up to the window and placed his hand on the glass. The mother turned toward the window. She couldn't see him but the baby...

Tiny eyes lit up in wonder as all tears were instantly forgotten. The baby girl's hands grasped for the window, trying to touch the little boy she saw there. Youngblood smiled and waved at her. She wiggled and giggled. Her parents cooed and placed her in the crib for the night, kissing her goodnight. And then they were gone.

Youngblood phased through the window. He floated to the crib and the little girl reaching for him. “Hi there,” he said.

The baby blew a snot bubble at him.

“Eww, you're gross,” he praised. He picked up the baby, holding her like he'd seen the parents. “I'm Youngblood.”

She wiggled and grabbed his pirate hat, pulling it from his head. He laughed and put it on her, snickering as it hid her entire face.

He wondered if this is what it felt like to have a little sister.


	24. Day 24: Evil

Evil. What was it anyway? A philosophy, a label, a word. An insult, an excuse. Something to use to justify actions, to condemn innocents, to smear opponents. What did it matter? And, really, was it so bad?

Vlad contemplated the glass of deep red wine in his hands as he sat before the fire. A lit cigar languished in an ashtray, its potent smoke wreathing the darkened room. Stone walls lined with tapestries and bookshelves stretched around him, enclosing him in wealth and prestige. Power dripped from the walls, from his own fingertips. The world dangled in front of him like low hanging fruit. All he had to do was reach out and pluck it.

So why hadn't he yet?

Evil. Good and evil. One couldn't exist without the other, that dichotomy of two otherwise useless words. Meaningless words. Concepts that belonged to lesser creatures. Here above the delusional masses there was nothing to hold him down. No words, no obligations, nothing to prevent him from flinging his power over the world and reeling it in like a fish in a net. Except...

The only thing in his way. Only one other being in the realms who held power akin to his own. One who insisted on clinging to those words. Couldn't understand that they were just words. That there was nothing behind those words, not here. Not anymore.

But Daniel wouldn't listen.

And so Vlad would play the “evil” to the boy's “good” until Daniel learned as he had.

There was no such thing as evil.


	25. Day 25: Genderbending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Generic 'switch everyone's gender' genderbending is boring. Instead have an AU where ghost forms are synonymous with magical girls.

Danni Phantom flew into her friend's bedroom window. She was grounded again thanks to having to ditch math class to deal with the Box Ghost and she needed the notes for the test tomorrow. Although they should be used to it by now, she still felt their stares as she adjusted her gloves, smoothed her ribbons, fluffed her very short skirt, and tugged her stockings back up to her thighs. She still didn't know why she had to wear this when she transformed but at least now she knew she wasn't the only one.

The transformation rings flashed and pulled away, revealing his normal t-shirt, baggy blue jeans, and floppy black hair. Not a ribbon or bow in sight, no ruffles, not even curves. “C'mon, guys, this can't be weird forever,” Danny pleaded. “So my ghost looks like a magical girl. That doesn't necessarily say anything about me.”

“I dunno, man,” Tucker said. “You were never into girly stuff before. Now you, like, brush your hair.”

“It's called 'grooming', Tucker,” Sam scoffed. Still, she'd been staring as much as he did, she merely tried to hide it better. No reason to make Danny feel more uncomfortable than he was already.

“Well, I'm not the only one like this, so...” Danny said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Two sets of eyes turned on him. “Wait, what?” Tucker demanded. “There's another?” Sam asked. “Who?” “Who?”

Danny held up his hands. “Before I say anything I need you both to promise me,” he said. “ **Promise me** that this isn't going to leave this room. That the three of us are the only ones who are ever going to know. He knows my secret too and I kinda forced him into a truce by saying it was going to stay secret. You can't tell anyone. Got it?”

“Depends on who it is,” Tucker said.

“Tucker! This is serious! He knows about me! He knows Mom and Dad. If this gets out about him I go down just as hard. How many people out there are going to want to capture a magical girl? We don't know! If you're gonna risk that, I'm not gonna tell you. And then I'll have to deal with my new archenemy all by myself. Do you really want that?”

“Whoa, chill,” Tucker said. “I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Look, we're not gonna tell anyone. At worst we're gonna laugh at him.”

Sam nodded in agreement and Danny felt odd, like there was something wrong with that somehow. He sighed. “Vlad Masters,” he admitted.

Tucker burst out laughing.

Danny glared. “Tucker, I'm going ghost,” he warned before she pointed at his hat and very carefully shot it off. Tucker squealed before grabbing his hat and making a fuss about the burnt spot.

“This is the same Vlad Masters who won't date and has been trying to buy the Packers, right?” Sam asked.

Danni nodded.

“So he is compensating for something,” she mused. “It's common knowledge. People just think he's gay, though. Wait, so Vlad Masters...”

“Turns into a really hot woman in a tiny white dress slit way up to here,” Danni said, pointing to far up on her hip. “Blue skin, Disney-villain hair, a big white and red cape, and the creepiest 20-year long crush on my mom. And she was the most powerful bad guy, living or dead or otherwise, that I have ever faced. She wiped the floor with me while complimenting my panties and giving the whole evil 'join me and I'll train you as my apprentice' speech.”

“Wow, so he's actually...” Sam realized.

“Dude, you're screwed,” Tucker said.

“Tell me about it,” Danni pouted. Her eyes fell on her purpose for coming today. “And now I'm gonna fail math, too! How am I supposed to study now?”


	26. Day 26: Lancer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From chapter 4 of _[The Hero's Villain](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7844688/1/The-Hero-s-Villain)_ :
> 
> "I counted twice but one of my students was missing. I knew he was here at school and I'd seen him in the cafeteria when the ghost attacked. I realized he must still be in there. So I went back in. The cafeteria was a complete mess. Tables were thrown everywhere as this monster slapped them around like they were toys. For a long moment I saw visions of my missing student trapped under rubble and unwilling or... unable to cry out. And then I heard him scream. My blood ran cold at that moment. There was no mistaking my student's voice. And he was screaming in _agony_."

Lionel Lancer stared up at the slowly rotating ceiling. Or maybe he was rotating. Or maybe he'd had too much to drink. He wasn't entirely sure. All he knew was he didn't feel anymore and that was all that mattered.

The floor was uncomfortable. He had to get up. He knew he had to get up if he planned on getting up at all in the next few days. That was the last thing he needed, to be bedridden again waiting for his back to recover. He already felt the tingling in his feet begin. Or maybe that was the bourbon talking.

The bourbon was doing a lot of talking and Lancer was in no condition to tell it to stop. He didn't want to hear himself think. If he did he'd start to shake again. He'd start to realize. He'd start to wonder...

Lionel heard the boy scream.

Not many teachers could say they'd heard their students scream. And even they probably couldn't say they'd heard it quite like this.

There'd been a ghost attack in the cafeteria. Something darted out of the cafeteria freezers. He'd been there for lunch monitor duty, he made the call for evacuation. He needed to get everyone out of the building, out to the field where they could wait out the attack, wait for the Fentons to declare the scene cleared. But one of his students was missing.

He'd gone back in. And then he heard the boy scream.

Phantom... sounded so much like Fenton. Too close. He didn't have any proof, not yet, but...

Lancer picked up the bottle of bourbon, finding it too empty to talk. He groped around for something else, something to stop his mind from going over the event again and again and...

Paper...

Paper and a pen. Lancer dragged himself up, barely managed to roll over onto his belly. He had paper, a pen. He didn't care that the pages were half-graded student essays, they would do. He couldn't drown out his thoughts.

But he could write until they left his head.

***

Lancer sat at his desk massaging his head. The blinds were closed and his breath still carried the faint scent of the hair of the dog. His head pounded and the room kept lurching off to one side. He had the television screen ready to show _The Great Gatsby_ so he wouldn't have to teach today. His class filed in, each picking up their hastily graded papers.

“Huh.”

Lancer looked up blearily at Star. She had her paper turned over. “Mr. Lancer, are these notes about how I did?” she asked.

Lancer blinked up at her and the page she held out in front of him. His own... Oh... Heh.

“Okay, people, after you've seen your grades I'll need your essays back,” Lancer called. A chorus of groans echoed through the room. He ignored them, continuing to pretend he hadn't actually scribbled drunken poetry all over his student's essays. If Tetslaff found out about it he'd never live it down.


	27. Day 27: Rituals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now to direct your attention to the center ring... [the shoggies of _The Unspeakable Vault of Doom_](http://www.goominet.com/unspeakable-vault/vault/1/Shoggies/)

“This is a bad idea,” Maddie said.

She stood wearing a red... thing draped over her lab coat. The boys were dressed much the same, Jack's over his orange jumpsuit and Vlad's over his Packer's t-shirt. The hastily dyed bedsheets were supposed to be cultist robes which Vlad insisted were a necessary component. Jack stood with his friend, holding candles and providing the sense of anticipation that she assumed this ritual required. Not that she expected it to work. After all, their summoning circle was drawn out of pink sidewalk chalk. Their 'elder grimoire' was notebook paper scribbled all over with things that Vlad claimed he'd heard out of an antique radio. Their candles were all different scents, their stenches combining into one strange miasma that wasn't even slightly covered by the 'sex on the beach' flavored incense that Jack had found at the creepy store on the edge of town where the stoners bought their drugs.

“This isn't going to work,” she said.

Vlad hissed at her.

“It'll work, Maddie, honest,” Jack said.

Vlad hissed at Jack. He gave the both of them a solid glare before going back to chanting.

Maddie huffed. This wasn't going to work.

But then... why was the summoning circle going dark?

“Um, guys?” she said.

***

Jack poked at the pinkish mass. Round eyes and strange yellow teeth poked out at all sorts of odd angles. The whole mass was about the size of a small dog, not big enough to leave the circle. He quickly stripped his glove as the mass seemed to eat through the latex.

“Sooo cool...” it moaned.

“Hey, it talks,” Jack called.

Vlad glared at the thing inside the circle. “That... is **not** a shoggoth!” he snapped.

“Sooo rude...”

“Yes, I think so too,” Jack agreed. “Vlad, you should apologize to the eldritch horror.”

A pair of hands grabbed Vlad by the collar of his cultist robes. He looked into the furious eyes of Maddie. “And I think you need to stop trying to summon things,” she growled as she pointed to the shoggie's acid eating through the floor under summoning circle. Pink pseudopods reached beyond the summoning circle.

“Sooo cool...”

“Good idea,” he agreed. “Jack, we should make an exit while we can.”

“Sooo hungry...”

Jack backed away.


	28. Day 28: Jazz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Related to [Family Secrets](http://archiveofourown.org/works/765528)

Jazz lay on her bed reading her book. Her feet kicked up as she lay on her belly, a pose she'd not allowed herself since she was a little girl. Not since her parents had restarted their ghost portal project. Not since Danny ended up getting hurt. Changed.

But so much was different now. Now they knew. Now everyone knew. The first few months had been a little hectic what with Danny's ice core going on the fritz and Mom ending up getting possessed by that imprint. People still weren't recovered. Jazz still sometimes caught Mom in the kitchen in the middle of the night gorging on everything she could find, growling with red eyes at being discovered. Sometimes Danny still sleepwalked or sleep-flew to lay around in snowdrifts or the walk-in freezer of the Nasty Burger or even Vlad's place. Sometimes Dad still holed himself up in the lab and he wouldn't come out for hours, just tinkering silently.

And sometimes...

**BOOM**

“Okay, kids, everyone upstairs! We're calling Uncle Frank! Lights are going out!”

Jazz reached under her bed, not even taking her eyes off of her book. She grabbed a flashlight just as the lights went dark.

She continued reading her book under the beam of the flashlight, feet still kicking idly as she lay on her belly on the bed. She waved to her mother as Maddie ran by wearing full radiation gear, heard the door at the end of the hallway lock as she and presumably Danny were stuck on the second floor, hidden behind the lead plates in the ceiling of the first.

Things were so much different now. But sometimes they never really changed.


	29. Day 29: Talent Trade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for today was to take something that someone else had done for phanniemay and redraw or rewrite it. Expand on it. Do more with it.
> 
> I chose [this](http://tilliquoi.tumblr.com/post/50324771463/danny-you-little-shit-personal-headcannon-is-that) by [tilliquoi](http://tilliquoi.tumblr.com/)

Maddie Fenton grabbed a towel and headed out into the backyard. She hoped they wouldn't need it, they had somewhere they had to be in half an hour. But Jack, well... She loved the dear but sometimes he didn't think very far ahead. One would hope after being a father for six years he'd have learned by now that when the kids were all dressed up and ready to go somewhere they weren't supposed to be let out into the backyard to “play”.

Especially not a four year old boy near the end of the rainy season.

splish. splash splish.

Maddie sighed and rolled her eyes, resolving to yell at Jack later. For the moment...

She snuck up behind the naked little boy sitting in the mud puddle. He splashed his hands against the watery surface before grabbing handfuls of mud to pile it in front of him. And then right before she was going to catch him with the towel he looked up and gave her a toothy little grin.

“Hi Sweetie,” Maddie said. “I heard Daddy let you outside to play.”

Danny nodded.

“Didn't I tell you that you needed to stay clean for our trip to Aunt Alicia's place?”

Danny pointed to his clothes. “I took 'em off,” he said. “Ta keep 'em clean. They're all clean, Mama.”

Maddie caught him with the towel and picked up her squirming baby boy. “Yes but you're a mess!”

Danny wiggled as he tried to get down. He didn't want to go inside, going inside meant--

“Now you need a bath!”

The long scream of “NOOOOOO” followed them into the house.


	30. Day 30: Trio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue only, no names.

“We don't do this enough.”

“Do what? Lay around staring at the ceiling?”

“Exactly. We're always rushing around, dealing with work, fighting ghosts, we never get a chance to just do nothing anymore. You know, like we used to.”

“Yeah...”

Siiiiigh. “I miss this.”

“There was no reason we had to stop.”

“Yes there was. Things changed. Everything happened. And then ghost powers were involved. Of course everything had to change.”

“That's not true.”

“Be honest. Could things stay the same? Could we have just continued on as though nothing was different? Even knowing what...”

Sigh. “Things did change. But they didn't have to change into this.”

“Then why didn't you try to stop it? I tried, I really did, but it took all of us to prevent it. And you... you just...” Sigh. “You didn't even try.”

“There's no starting over, is there?”

“No, no there is not.”

“It died, didn't it?”

“It's as dead as I am.”

“Does that mean there's hope?”

Sigh. “So optimistic. You always were. I'm not. I know better.”

One figure got up and left, leaving two laying on the floor.

“Well I don't.”

A second figure got up and followed the first.

A lone figure remained laying on the laboratory floor, staring at the ceiling. Eyes closed, blocking the sight.

What they three had once... broke.


	31. Day 31: Free Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the rakshasa gets all meta.

Vlad stumbled into the green room and collapsed onto a less than comfortable chair. He was done, finished, didn't have to do this ever again.

They all were.

“We're done,” he said almost reverently.

Lancer looked up from his book. Jazz, Sam, Tucker, Youngblood, and Dani looked up from their board game. Dash's hands slowed as he pet Cujo, ignoring the annoyed bark from the ghost dog. Jack glanced up from his invention then went back to work.

“I, Technus, demand a bigger part!”

“Shut up,” the Box Ghost scolded. “We don't want to be here for any longer than we have to. I, the Box Ghost, have been kept from my precious boxes for far too long!”

“At least you had a part,” Dani snapped. “I got a casting call and then never even got to say a line.”

“Preaching to the choir,” Sam said. “My day was completely ignored. I got alt-themed!”

Vlad ignored the bickering and pulled a cigar from his jacket. He lit it as he pulled out more scripts. The rest of these losers might be free but he wasn't, he was still booked for a time travel piece, another stint with the Ghostbusters, and where was Daniel? “Anybody seen Danny?” he asked.

“Since when do you smoke?” Maddie wondered.

“Since _The Hero's Villain_. I find I rather like it.”

Lancer took the cigar from Vlad's lips and took a long pull on it before handing it back. He ignored the look of pure annoyance he got from the silver-haired man. “Cubans are overrated,” he said.

“So's bourbon,” Vlad snapped. He gave a 'you-can't-touch-me' grin to the bald man before going back to his scripts.

“You take that back,” Lancer growled.

“Or what, you're gonna sic your girlfriend on me?”

The door opened and a rakshasa with yellow eyes and an askew top hat walked in. “Settle down, people,” she said. “Now then, I want to thank you all for coming. Shooting's finally over so now we can print this thing and call it a day. Not everybody can go home now, though. Lancer, I want you and Ember backstage, I've got some ideas I want to go over with the two of you. Danny's over with Tangi, she's going to be working with him for awhile. Vlad, I need you onstage in five, we're going to be going over the core flare notes.”

“I have some ideas about that, actually,” Vlad said.

“Great, I'd love to hear them. Jack, don't go too far. I can't finish these pacman stories without you.”

“Yeah, but, Maddie has issues with them,” Jack said, pointing to his wife.

The rakshasa sighed. “You two work them out, then,” she said. “It's just that we've had that college pacman porn, you remember what I'm talking about, the drunken one? It's been half-finished for months and it's not going anywhere until you get your act in gear.”

“Okay,” Jack said, dragging his foot around sheepishly.

“And you,” she said, turning back to Vlad. “I need you to stop acting sane for five minutes so I can get some multiple personalities out of you. I've got three bits going where we need to see Ge Rouge and you're being too stable.”

Vlad blew a mouthful of cigar smoke at her before grumbling and shuffling his scripts. “Don't know why I put up with this,” he muttered. “Been drowned, shocked, stabbed, bound, gagged, and exposed to who knows how many different tentacly creatures...”

The rakshasa ignored him. “Any questions?” she asked.

“Yeah, can I get a speaking part next time?” Dani asked. “Vlad's cat got more screen time than me.”

“Vlad's cat is easier for me to stomach,” the rakshasa said. “You're just... not evil enough.” She turned and left.

Dani pouted.

“Trust me, my dear, you don't want her attentions,” Vlad said. He grabbed his stack of scripts and followed the rakshasa, not noticing as one fell out of his arms.

Dani snatched the script and took it to the corner of the green room. People started packing their things as they made to leave while she let curiosity take over. She began to read.

_Epilogue..._

Dani closed the script. The green room was empty as she slid away from it, staring at it as though it was going to bite her. Maybe she didn't want to work with this author after all.


End file.
